conviction
by Ymirs
Summary: in which Levy is more than meets his eye


**A/N: **I really wanted to write a drabble for this pairing, so here you go!

* * *

The first time he saw her, Gajeel knew that this was the girl he would fall in love with.

Well, maybe that wasn't quite right_ he_ _wasn't exactly sure which time was the first._

In the beginning she'd been nothing but a dull, dark-eyed mannequin, a tool to be used as a declaration of war between Phantom Lord and Fairy Tail. In the grand scheme of things her life was insignificant; she had no presence, no soul. She was made of bones easy to break, and blood easy to spill. He had a job to do, and she was a necessity. There was no compassion, no regret to be felt. Nothing at all.

And then he'd become a member of Fairy Tail, and she was no longer a figure lacking identity – she was Levy, a small girl who quaked in his presence yet one who did not hesitate to show him compassion; even after what he'd done to her, what he'd done to them, she had tried to defend him from her friends, pleading with them to stop their attacks _he's no longer our enemy we shouldn't treat him like one. _She was a weak creature doing her best to alleviate the tension between them, yet this caused the situation to take a turn for the worse, and her desire to help him caused her to become target to a well-aimed bolt of lightning. Instinct kicked him in the face _she's too small too fragile she'll never survive that _and his body moved on its own accord; he became her shield, and the heat turned his vision white and set his arm ablaze yet he stood his ground until it was over and she was safe. His loyalties had changed. She had acknowledged this, and it was enough for him.

Crisis brought them closer together, and revealed what he hadn't realised before; she was smart – no, that word was wrong, it didn't do her justice; she was clever, intelligent, so damn bright that he couldn't help but be astounded by her, and he could only with fascination as she sorted through text after text, connecting hundreds of words and phrases together as though it was the easiest thing in the world. She was a demon under pressure, snapping out orders left and right, and he would willingly obey; if not to escape the crisis they were in but simply because she'd actually found the courage to snap at him in the first place _and she did it too she got them out in the end. _

It became a habit of his to visit her while she was reading. He would sit on the bench across hers and she would continue to leaf through her book, pausing mid-sentence to eagerly chirp away about every little thing which caught her interest, her eyes alight with pleasure as she shared her passion with another person _she handled each page like it was a treasure to behold and he couldn't understand it but he wanted to. _His own interest in the topic was irrelevant. She welcomed him with a delighted smile, and that alone was enough to keep him coming back.

Fascination quickly became captivation, and it wasn't long before he threw caution to the wind and asked her out on a date _he'd spent hours going over what he would say and how he would say it because he couldn't bear to hear her say no_, and there the blushing, bashful persona within her was exposed, and it frightened him because no-one had ever behaved like this around him before, and he didn't know what it meant, nor what to expect – was this the prelude to rejection? But she'd said yes, and there was no more reason to be afraid, because this was it; he had her.

Every minute with her was another opportunity to peer into her soul, and he had plenty of minutes and plenty to behold: she loathed green beans; she could memorize the contents of an entire book yet could barely recall what she'd had for breakfast the day before; she could hit really _really_ hard if she was motivated enough _he learned not to touch her books and lose her pages after that_. If they paid enough attention, anyone could learn these things, yet he was the only one to remember them, and only he was allowed to see her in her most vulnerable state; only he knew the way she shivered as his fingers slipped under her shirt and ran along the bare skin beneath; how she liked to knot her fingers in his hair as their kisses deepened, clutching at the black locks as though they were a lifeline _yet they would never go further but that didn't matter he was content to lie there with her tiny frame curved neatly into his because all he wanted was to hold her in his arms and all he needed was for her to be with him._

He was supposed to know her from head to toe, yet he'd only just scratched the surface. She was the same girl he'd seen for the first time so long ago, only she wasn't; with each passing day there was a new discovery to be made, a whole different side to her which he'd somehow managed to miss completely _it was disorienting and confusing and incredibly perplexing but he couldn't imagine anything better he was so sure so certain of it there was absolutely no doubt he could meet her for the first time a hundred times over and over and over again and absolutely nothing would change._

This was the girl he would fall in love with.


End file.
